


Sickenesse

by QwillReign



Category: Septimus Heap - Angie Sage
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Time Travel, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Book Three: Physik, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marcia is a Mum, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sickfic, The Sickenesse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-14 21:41:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29178162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QwillReign/pseuds/QwillReign
Summary: She had to find an Antidote, she had to. Marcia couldn't let the Sickenesse spread to Septimus, she couldn't.Septimus fainted. He was Sick.
Relationships: Jenna Heap & Septimus Heap, Sarah Heap & Septimus Heap, Septimus Heap & Marcia Overstrand, Septimus Heap/Mandy Marwick
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	1. Mothers

The Sickenesse was a dreadful thing. It caught fast, and no one could tell how. Perhaps it was the rats, as those dratted RatSranglers thought, or perhaps it was something else. Whatever it was, there was no cure. There was no cure, and there wouldn’t be one unless Marcia made it. No, not unless, until. She had to make it. She had to protect her people, to make sure she didnt lose anyone else. She refused to lose anyone else. Not now, not ever. 

At least Septimus and Jenna were still healthy. If Marcia lost Septimus, if the Castle lot their princess, there would be no escape. Marcia didnt think she would ever be able to recover from the loss of the boy who she thought of as her own. So she had to find an Antidote, she had to stop the sickness before Septimus got it as well. There was no option, there was no trying, there was only a need to do it, and so she did. 

Marcia had not left the library for several days now. She was surrounded by books, and Septimus was probably the only reason she had remembered to eat, and was pretty sure the only reason she had been getting any sleep was because of the charms Marcia suspected he was slipping into her tea. 

Still, she could not find anything. They had tested and made many, many cures. Some had reduced the fevers and some had gotten the marks that were on each and every victim to fade. But none had cured them. None of the medicines and tinctures and charms and potions and poultices that anyone had tried had worked. There were now so many people sick that they had opened up the old Infirmary. 

Marcia heard the noise of someone climbing the ladder and looked up gratefully. “Thank you Septimus, I hadn’t realized it was anywhere close to dinner-time...” As his head poked up through the floor, Marcia quickly took in his abnormally pale complexion, the red beanie on his head, and the bitemark on his shoulder that could only mean one thing. 

“Septimus?” Marcia’s voice wavered, but she refused to appear as anything but utterly confident and reassuring to her apprentice, no, her kid. “Septimus, have you gotten the sickness?” He gave her a weak nod, opened his mouth, and closed it, as if he had not the energy to speak. “Go back down the ladder then, Septimus! I won’t have you falling off it!” She couldn’t conceal the panic in her voice, and hated that she might have let him know that she was afraid. 

She rushed down after him, pulling him into a hug as soon as her feet touched the floor. She felt him leaning into her touch, and reveled in his comfort with her. Then he fainted, and she was staggering under the sudden weight. 

Marcia allowed herself a moment of panic before she brought the poor dear to the couch. Hurriedly, she gathered the fever reducers she had managed to make work so far, and dosed Septimus with them. The poor dear was burning up, but shivering under the many blankets she had piled on top of him.

Marcia then gathered him up, blankets and all, and concentrated very hard on her destination. It had been a long while since she had done a two-person Transport, but it was the fastest way to get Septimus to the infirmary. She had to hope that they had figured something out to help with the Sickenesse since their last visit, that there would be some way to help Septimus. She could not let him die, she couldn’t!

When the pair arrived, Marcia quickly found the nearest open bed. She settled Septimus in it, making sure he was comfortable. The boy was slowly coming to, and he groaned as she placed the pillow under his head. Marcia called out to him, but Septimus did not respond. He had seemingly fallen into a deep sleep, so Marcia settled herself in the rickety chair by the bedside, and held Septimus’s hand. 

Marcia might have sat there for hours, but it was only a few minutes before she heard one Sarah Heap bustling over. “Marcia! Why are you here? Did you make an Antidote?”

Marcia looked up at the woman, who cared s much for her children, who had entrusted her youngest child to Marcia’s care, whom Marcia had failed. On her face were tears she did not remember crying, and she held the red beanie she last remembered being on Septimus’s head in her hand. 

“Sarah,” Marcia sobbed, utterly unable to compose herself. “Sarah, I’m so sorry.” She buried her head in her hands, and cried for her apprentice, who had done nothing to deserve this fate, who she could not save, and who she loved more than she had ever loved anyone. “I’m so, so, sorry! I tried to keep him safe, I really did! We barely left the tower, I don’t know where he got it! I tried! I tried….” Marcia was rambling now, she knew this, but she couldn’t ring herself to stop. “I let him go out, It’s all my fault! I’m so so sorry...” she broke off, choking back her tears, trying to pull herself together. “Septimus is sick, and it’s all my fault…” Marcia gave up on talking one, and buried her head in her hands, sobbing silently as Sarah took in the limp form of her youngest son. 

Sarah froze. There was Marcia, sitting by an infirmary bed. She had no new Antidote, and Sarah knew Marcia wasn’t close to very many people. She tried to keep her worst thoughts at bay, tried to convince herself that there was absolutely no way that the small figure on the bed, whose beanie, whose red beanie, Marcia was holding, could be her Septimus. 

It was impossible. She should turn away. She shouldn’t pry into Marcia’s business. She should send someone over to make sure that they were comfortable, and just move on. But she couldn’t. Sarah knew that the chance that that person in that bed, who was obviously very ill from the Sickenesse was Septimus, was minuscule. 

But minuscule wasn’t nothing. And Sarah was a mother, she had to know for sure. She told herself that it was fine, she could check on the patient, get them settled in, and send Marcia back to the tower, to working on the Antidote, to Septimus. Slowly, slowly, she made her way to Marcia, to the figure on the bed. Perhaps Marcia had succeeded, perhaps there was an Antidote in her hand Sarah simply couldn’t see, perhaps, perhaps.

“Marcia! Why are you here? Did you make an Antidote?” She had to hope it was so. But when Marcia looked up, when Sarah saw that the red beanie in Marcia’s hand was Septimus’s beanie, the red eyes and tears on Marcia’s face made sense. 

The boy in the cot was her boy. Her Septimus. Her child, who she had thought was dead for so long, was dying right in front of her. She hadn’t been able to protect him. She wanted to be angry at Marcia, To scream, to smash, to throw something at the woman, but Sarah could see how much Marcia was hurting as well. 

She sunk to her knees, sobbing. From somewhere above her, Sarah heard Marcia crying as well. She was apologizing, but Sarah didnt feel any better. The room buzzed, and everything but her Septimus seemed to disappear from view. Sarah went to the head of the bed. She brushed back Septimus’s wild Heap hair, and stared lovingly at his face. He looked almost peaceful, and Sarah could see that there was very little fever. Marcia must have given him one of the Half cures, but it wouldn’t be enough to save him. Her Septimus, her baby boy, was dying. She tried to convince herself otherwise, but deep in her heart, Sarah knew that Septimus might not have much time left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!   
> Don't worry, the next chapter is already in the works :)


	2. Everybody Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Septimus is sick, and there's not much time left.

Everybody knows that everybody dies.

Everybody knows that everybody dies, but nobody wants to watch. 

Nobody wants to accept that their friend, their family, their child, is dying. 

Nobody wants to stay by their side, and watch them waste away until they are barely recognisable. 

But nobody, nobody, can leave them when that happens. Nobody can stop watching, and nobody can accept the death until they see the empty shell of their loved one, staring blankly into nothingness. 

So when Septimus was lying in the infirmary, dying, neither Sarah or Marcia could bear to leave their child’s bedside. It was not them who sent the Message Rat to Silas, nor to Jenna, nor the ones to the rest of the Heap children. 

But the Message Rat was sent, and everyone had come to stay with their family. Nobody wants to see them die, but everybody wants to be there, to have that last moment. Nobody wants to watch , but everybody will. 

So the family crowded around the bedside of the youngest child, whom they had mourned once already. They crowded, and held his hand, and cried, even if they did not know him well yet.

Jenna refused to speak to anyone, and she had taken off her crown. Nicko had come straight from a date with his new girlfriend, a young northern trader. Silas had abandoned his game of CounterFeet, and Gringe hadn’t even thought about taking his colony this time. 

Marcia should have been working on a cure, but she could not tear herself away. She had her materials brought, eventually, and summoned books to examine, all from Septimus’s bedside, all for Septimus. 

Sarah was supposed to be taking care of all the patients, but she only had eyes for Septimus. The one time she suggested it, in an offhand manner, the other Infirmary Workers had pushed her back down. She picked up her knitting, making beanies in every color she had, for Septimus. 

Perhaps it had been a day, perhaps several, but eventually Septimus woke, in the dead of night. It was the type of awakening which isn't quite real but is tantalizingly close to it. Jenna was the only one awake, the only one who heard. Septimus was the only one who spoke. 

“Four-oh-nine?” 

Jenna rushed to brush his hair out of his face, to talk to him, because he was finally, finally awake! 

He didn’t move, he had fallen right back asleep. But she had heard him. She had heard him, and she couldn’t believe that they had all forgotten. They had forgotten Wolf boy, Septimus’s oldest friend (although she suspected he was actually something more). 

Jenna didn’t want to leave her brother’s side. Nobody ever wants to leave, for fear of what might happen when they are gone. But she did, because she knew that while nobody wants to watch it happen, nobody wants to miss it. 

She took the midnight barge run to the Castle, and the cupboard passage to Zelda’s. When she popped out, she was greeted by a startled Wolf boy, who relaxed when he saw it was her. Then he saw the look on Jenna’s face, and blanched. 

“Jenna, what’s the matter?” 

“409… It’s Sep.”

“What about him? Got into another scrape? I keep tellin’ him not to do those silly Magyk stunts, but he never listens. ” 

“No, oh I wish he was, 409. I really do. ” The tears were flowing fast now, as she struggled to verbalize the awful fact. “No, 409… he’s got the Sickenesse.”

Wolf Boy blanched. Wordlessly, he scribbled a note to Aunt Zelda. He pushed Jenna back into the cupboard before following, fast and silent. 

They made their way back to the infirmary without discussion. Nobody had woken since the last time Jenna had seen them. Septimus was stirring, however. He was writhing in his sleep, mumbling incoherently. The bedcovers had all been pushed away, presumably in his sleep. 

Wolf boy rushed to him. He gathered Septimus in his arms, and held him close. Jenna stood back, allowing them the moment, just glad that Septimus was still alive, no matter how much it pained her to see him this way. 

Wolf Boy was cooing over him now, covering him again, petting Septimus’s hair, and Jenna felt as if she was intruding on something private, something deep. She watched as Wolf Boy planted a kiss on Septimus’s forehead, and smiled slightly at the confirmation of her theory about the boys’ relationship. 

Together, Jenna and Wolf Boy sat with Septimus as he slipped into a (hopefully) more restful sleep. When the others awoke, nobody questioned his presence or the loving way he held Septimus’s hand and ran his fingers through his hair. 

They remained that way for several hours, all hushed voices and sad expressions. 

Eventually, they were told that Septimus would only have a few hours left, at most. 

Everything ends, and it’s always sad. 

Everybody dies, and everybody knows that one day, they will do the same.

Snorri Snorrelssen saw the bites. She saw the bites, and she recognized them. Her people had once had this disease, and everybody carried a cure. She ran to the Infirmary from her ship. She burst in, and she convinced someone to let her try. SHe convinced Nicko. 

She convinced the boy she had only met twice, who she had fallen for not at once, but fast and hard. She convinced him to trust her with his younger brother’s life, and it worked. 

It worked, and the family’s tears were happy now, not sad. Micko picked her up and swung her around. He kissed her cheek. Snorri smiled and pulled away. She left the family to celebrate, and she gave the Antidote, and the recipe, to one of the nearby nurses. 

Snorri left the Infirmary with a smile on her face. Firmly fixed in her mind was an image of a happy family, with a very very large number of brothers. The youngest, Septimus, was sitting up, beaming. He had just kissed his boyfriend, and his family was huddled around, all talking at once. 

The girl had put her circlet back on, the wizard her cape. The mother had stopped knitting, and the brothers stopped crying. 

Everything ends, and it’s always sad. 

Everybody dies, and everybody knows. 

But sometimes, some days, everybody lives. 

This is one of those days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and don't forget to kudos and comment! I can't wait to hear what y'all thought!
> 
> Did y'all catch the Doctor Who references?


End file.
